Watch the World Burn
by demonpixie1
Summary: What if the "Mutant Registration Act" passed? What if it was decided that the most powerful mutants were the only "useful" ones? What if it was decided that the rest of them were better off dead?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm well-aware that I have other stories I could be adding to, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone: I had this idea of what if like one of the X-men's enemies, one of the groups like Stryker's from the movies, decided that only the most powerful mutants were worth keeping around, if they could be controlled, and decided to eliminate the rest? What would happen? **

The fall of Apocalypse was supposed to show the world that mutants were on humanity's side, that they were worth keeping around. Unfortunately for mutants, it seemed to have the opposite effect.

In the middle of the night barely weeks later, the man known as Wolverine found himself awake and tense and completely unsure of why. Grunting, he hauled himself out of bed to get a glass of water (or a beer. Whatever,) and was dimly aware of a vaguely familiar humming noise on the edge of his consciousness.

He'd reached the kitchen, and was bent over the fridge retrieving a beer when what his subconscious was trying to tell him about the growing-louder sound registered and he lunged for the intercom in the kitchen, "X-men!" he barked, "We have sentinels incoming!" before setting the security system on full alert.

In record time the entire X-men team had gathered on the lawn, prepared to defend their home. The eight Sentinels paused, apparently scanning the gathered group before the lead one spoke, "Alpha mutants: 14557, 45465, 75664, 34360, 74356, 68525; Jean Grey, Anna Marie Darkholm, Raymond Crisp, Ororo Munro, Wolverine, Jubilation Lee, you are ordered to surrender to the United States Government for containment."

Jubilee leaned over to Logan, "What about those they didn't name? Are they just gonna let 'em go?" she murmured softly.

Logan cursed softly, "Somehow, Kid, I doubt it'll be that easy."

With those heartening words and a snarl, Logan launched himself at the Sentinels, followed by Jubilee, Scott and Rogue and then the rest of the X-men. Sam and Kitty were tackling the leftmost Sentinel when a cold, robotic voice intoned, "Extraneous mutants: Terminate," a cannon blast knocked the two out of the air and Kitty's agonized scream seemed to rent the air: this was no longer a fight against captivity, but a fight for their lives.

Scott fell next, and then Kurt, and then they were dropping like flies- except those the Sentinels had named from the start: the robots seemed to be going out of their way NOT to injure them, but to capture.

Jean was the first to realize this and fury rose in her chest and the Sentinel she'd been trying to hold back was suddenly crushed into the earth- which had started to rumble and her head flew up as the Brotherhood made their way up casually, unaware of the tragedy they'd stumbled upon.

"Sup, geeks?" Toad grinned as he hopped.

"Thought we'd join the party." Fred added as he lumbered towards the robots.

"No!" Jean yelled as the Sentinel mercilessly blasted the two boys into pieces where they stood, fire erupted from the redhead and melted it into a puddle of molten metal.

Jean panted, tears streaming down her face as she gazed at what was left of the boys, just inches from Scotts visor, which shifted on the still rumbling ground.

Wanda's vicious scream complemented her powers as she deconstructed the Sentinel that had effortlessly snapped her twin's neck. Lance had sunk a third neck-deep in the ground, while Ray and Ororo had joined forces to short-circuit two more. Jean's inferno grew to engulf another while Logan decapitated the final one.

They all stood, panting, and gazed around at the carnage.

"What the fuck was that?" Lance exploded.

Logan cocked his head, listening, and then turned to face the skyline, where a series of dots in military formation were steadily moving their way, "Figure it out later; we gotta get out of here!"

He lead the way around the back of what was left of the mansion and into the hangar, where their ragtag group boarded the jet and they sped off into the night.

They made it 20 minutes into the flight before Jean broke the silence with a broken-sounding sob, "Scott..."

Logan wasn't sure how to react when Wanda started sparking, "They KILLED my brother." she snarled viciously. Rogue made her way to her fellow Goth and simply pulled Wanda into her arms as tears streamed down both girls' faces.

Lance, in the seat beside Jean, watched blankly as she started sobbing uncontrollably.

Ororo had an arm around Ray in comfort and Jubilee was firmly focused on co-piloting alongside Logan, she felt like if she stopped for even a moment she'd break down entirely.

Jean was fighting an uphill battle to control her breathing and Lance shook off his shock to kneel in front of the panicking redhead, "Grey. Grey! Jean!"

Her gaze met his, startled, and he firmly commanded, "Breathe, Jean."

She shook her head, "Can't... Scott's dead... And Kitty and Kurt... And..."

"I know." he soothed, "But you need to get yourself under control, okay? In case you didn't notice: your powers are acting sketchier than usual- even_ I_ know that- so please, calm down."

She leaned down to put her head between her knees and he rubbed her back soothingly and glanced around the plane and up at Logan, "Where are we going?" he voiced everyone's unasked question.

"New Orleans." Logan grunted.

"What's in New Orleans?" Ray asked.

"Old friend who can help us ditch the jet- 'ts too conspicuous."

**A/N: I know I was rather ruthless in who I kept and who I killed, but I have ideas that require their deaths (and for some, possible resurrections.) Fair warning here: This will be a LancexJean story, which I know is rare, but I was pondering on it recently, and was kind of like, "If Scott was dead, who would Jean end up with?" and came to Lance, because he's a leader, like Scotty, and despite them being to the wrong people, he's loyal, and I think with both of them being powerful mutants they'd gravitate to each other. **

**Drop me a review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Chapter 2

They landed outside of the city of New Orleans at a private airstrip, where they were met by a pair of Escalades, a violet-haired woman in jeans and a leather jacket, and,

"Remy!" Rogue half-sobbed, throwing herself at the Cajun man, who returned her embrace.

The purple-haired woman was hugging Logan warmly, "So glad you're okay." she was saying.

Logan slung an arm around her, "Yeah, Bets," he growled sarcastically, "Kids just watched all their friends get killed in cold blood. None of us're gonna be okay for a long time."

Logan performed introductions somberly and the remaining X-men and Brotherhood members were introduced to Betsy Braddock, who was apparently a telepath and a supermodel.

Rogue's eyebrows shot up and she gave Remy A Look, "And ya know her how?"

Remy shrugged, "W'met in London when I was comin' up in the guild. We been friends f'r years."

"Just friends?" Rogue asked suspiciously.

"Jus' friends, Petit. We sparring buddies. She likes dem... Older." he confirmed, nodding his head towards where the telepath had both arms wrapped around one of Logans' and her head leaned on his shoulder.

Remy drove one car and Betsy drove the other, taking them all to a palatial southern mansion outside of the city, "First place I ever bought for myself. It's my home away from home." she explained, "you can all pick rooms on the second floor- everyone has their own bathroom and I'm fairly certain we can hunt down some clothing for all of you."

Jean was pulling on jeans and a green t-shirt when there was a knock on her door, she called for them to come in as she toweled off her hair.

Lance poked his head in, "Hey, um, Logan wants to get us all together with Gambit and Betsy and figure out what's going on..."

She nodded, staring at herself in the mirror, not entirely hearing him, "Jean!" Lance said, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

She started and faced him, "What?"

"Jeez, can you focus please?" he grumbled.

Jean rounded on him, "Excuse me? How am I supposed to focus? I just lost everyone important to me! How are you NOT freaking out? Kitty's dead. Fred, Todd, Tabby, everyone we know is dead now and we survived!"

"You think I don't fucking know that?" he snapped, "I'm well-aware that my three best friends and my girlfriend just died in front of me. I fucking get it. But I CAN'T freak out- I don't have your level of control. If I lose my shit like you are, I could drop the entire gulf coast into the ocean. Wanda could alter reality and probably destroy fucking life as we know it, but I'm her leader and as long as I'm holding my shit together she's holding her shit together, so Game Face, Red. We've got bigger fish to fry."

Jean nodded, wiped away her tears and shook herself, "Right. Bigger things to worry about."

The two made their way downstairs and followed everyone else to a parlor, where they all found seats. Logan seemed inclined to let Betsy take the lead, but when they all looked at her she shrugged, so Lance sighed and stood, "Okay people, what do we know?" he asked.

"It named us." Jean said softly, elaborating when she got confused looks in return, "All of us X-men who survived? It named us. It gave our names and what sounded like designation numbers and ordered us to surrender. It wanted us for something."

"Okay." Lance started, "What do we all have in common that they would want us for?"

"It called us, 'Alpha's." Ray offered.

"We all Alpha-class mutants." Remy stated.

"Huh?" Jubilee asked inelegantly.

"Government classifies the most powerful mutants as Alpha Class, then Beta, then Delta, Gamma and Omega." Logan explained, "They want us because we're powerful and they wanted to eliminate the rest."

"And dey not goin' to stop." Remy voiced all of their biggest fear.

"So let me get this straight:" Jean said, voice shaking, "My best friends, my fiancé, my team, all died because someone doesn't consider them powerful enough but I am?" her voice rose at the end, "Scott's DEAD because I'M considered a threat!"

Books on the walls of the study, lamps, even some of the lighter tables began rising into the air as Jean's furious eyes flared a firey orange-red.

"Shit!" Rogue yelped, lunging for Jean's hand, "Jean! Fight it!"

Jean gasped, her eyes turned green again and everything that had started float settled back into place as everyone took a relieved breath.

Remy's phone started ringing shrilly and he cursed, glancing at it, "Gotta take dis." He slipped out into the hall, only to return a moment later, "We can' stay here. Dat was Belle, whoever's after us knows we've gathered in N'Awlins. M' home got raided."

Logan cursed, "How the hell'd they know?"

"We're too big of a group." Lance said into the silence, "We've gotta split up into smaller groups, pairs and threes, and head different directions, throw 'em off."

"He's right." Betsy sighed, "We need small groups and simple back stories just in case. And a meeting place."

Logan grunted, "I got a place in the Rockies we can hide in for a while."

"But we don't all know where that is." Wanda said softly.

"'Ro and Stripes do and I'm not adverse to Red reading the information off me. That's four people who know where we're going. Groups?"

Betsy spoke again, "I can take Jubilee and pass us off as sisters on a road trip." she offered.

"Good." Logan grunted.

"Wanda, Remy and I can find our way." Rogue added.

"Good. Then Sparky and 'Ro can come with me and Red and Shakedown can be a team." Logan finished.

"Cars?" Jean asked.

"I've got more motorcycles than cars, but we've still got our pick." Betsy confirmed.

"Then everyone get your shit and let's get out of here." Logan ordered.

Four hours later found Jean and Lance at a lonely gas station somewhere on the edge of Louisiana, Jean came out of the store to find Lance leaned against the pickup they were driving - straight across the South, and then North to the house- leaning his head back and smoking a cigarette.

"That's bad for you, you know." she informed him.

He tipped forward, leaning on his elbows casually, "At this point I feel like my entire existence is bad for me." he growled, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly.

She shrugged, no arguments there, and offered him a bottled soda, which he accepted and took a long drink of, "Thanks. What do I owe you?"

"Nothing."

Lance rolled his eyes, cig hanging from his lip as he patted himself down for his wallet, "No bullshit, Grey, how much do I owe you?"

Jean sighed, "Really, nothing. I don't have my wallet, so I kind of used my powers to get the soda and gas. He won't remember us ever being here."

Lance whistled, "Holy shit. Jean Grey actually used her powers for personal gain. What would the Prof say?"

She snorted, "He wouldn't approve." she let him open her door for her and climbed back in the truck.

"So you didn't always agree with him? 's news to me."

She shrugged, "Not always."

"No?" Lance started the car.

"Some of it wasn't... Practical, I guess. He expected us to be his perfect ambassadors for mutants, and I never signed on for that."

"Coulda fooled me." Lance snorted, "As condescending as you and Summers were, I figured you fully subscribed to his hypocritical bullshit."

She shook her head, red curls tumbling messily over her shoulder, "I respected his views, and in essence I wanted the same end result, but his methods were impractical. You think he was a hypocrite?"

Brown eyes met green sidelong, "Well yeah, I mean, he condemned us because we were openly willing to fight for our right to exist, he spent all that time preaching "peace" and "coexistence" and shit, but then he spent all that time training you in the danger room so you'd martyr yourselves for his dream."

"Martyr ourselves?"

"Yeah, he's got you in there, training for how to fight Magneto and giant robots and shit, what if you'd used the technology to simulate, I dunno, riot control, show them how we can use our powers to help people, like everyday people, not just be government weapons."

"And how would we do that?" Jean snapped, angry that he'd obviously thought about this when she hadn't.

"Like... Like I kinda figured I'd make a good firefighter, cuz I could bury the wildfires, easy, and my powers make it easy to feel whether a building is gonna come down. Or like Pietro would've made a badass cop. Cuz like his brain works as fast as the rest of him, so he could solve it in less time and probably do his own labwork. Or Kit could have been a good archeologist with her powers."

He glanced at her, to find her staring at him with her mouth open, stunned, "I never thought of it like that before... Though Kitty would never have been an archeologist."

"No?"

"No. If you remember, the Tomb of Apocalypse kind of petrified her." she reminded him.

Lance nodded, staring ahead at the road, and the car fell into a comfortable silence. He was startled out of his thoughts some time later by a new weight on his shoulder- Jean had fallen asleep. He shrugged mentally, draped his arm around her shoulders and settled in for a long drive.

**~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~**

**A/N: **Regarding this last scene: It was originally supposed to be the beginning of the next chapter, but it's a stand alone, and I wanted to give everyone a little bit of interaction between them (and just a touuuuuuuch of fluff at the end.)****

** Did anyone see Betsy coming? I know she wasn't in the show, but she's a favorite of mine and I wanted her to put in an appearance. She'll probably return later. Maybe. **

**I'm also debating on Reagan Wyngaarde making an appearance, so let me know in a review, k? Should she show up? (and if she's here then those of you that know a bit about the comics will know who comes with her... *wink-wink*)**

**There are certain characters from the comics that WILL be making an appearance, and others that MAY. Drop me a review if you have requests, ideas, etc. =) **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey gang, I'm so sorry about the total lack of updates for... eleven months. I've been busy working on my degree and working and planning my sister's wedding and becoming an aunt and it's just been a hectic year and I'm just sorry for the total lack of updates. I was giving my stories another look and had some ideas for this next bit, and the next chapter, too, which should be along soon-ish, and I decided to just pump it out and get it out because I know you've been waiting. I feel really bad this took so long, I just got burned out on this fandom for a while, but I've been getting into the Avengers, and the Marvel fandom, and I remembered where I wanted to take this story. So my goal is to try for a chapter a month, alternating between this and my Fast and the Furious/Transformers crossover. I would love to update sooner, but I'm too busy sometimes to promise more than that. It's a short chapter, but I hope it lives up to everyone's expectations.**

**~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~**

They stopped and got a hotel room in a small town between Louisiana and Texas and decided to hit the local bar when Lance admitted to being something of a pool shark, "can't keep using your powers to pay our way Jeannie, 't's too easy to track." he'd explained, and all she could focus on was the hint of a Southern accent that had entered his voice in recent days.

They entered separately, Lance already ensconced in a round of pool and losing when Jean slipped into the bar and felt every set of male eyes in her. She made her way to the bar and ordered a coke, hiding a grimace as she fought to block out the thoughts of the bar patrons.

Lance hid a start when Jean's voice popped into his head unbidden, _'this was a bad idea_.' She informed him, and a glance up told him she'd picked up on his concerns about being made and allowed herself to be engaged in conversation with the female bartender.

_'Why?' _He queried mentally, hoping she was still listening.

_'Because it's hard to block this many people. No one here has any kind of psychic guards and they're all projecting.' _She informed him.

_'Would it help if you had something to focus on?'_

_'... Maybe.'_

_'Good. What's my opponent thinking right now?'_

_'That he may have bitten off more than he can chew with you... His wife is going to kill him if he's bet the rent money again... You know, it's almost cruel to beat him now.'_ Jean admonished.

_'Don't worry, the plan was always to throw this game.'_ He reassured her, _'see the blond guy watching from behind me? What's going on in his head?'_

_'He thinks you're all bravado... His friend, the short one? Is gonna play you, lose on purpose to build you up, so blonde guy can get you to bet higher.'_ She reported, her tone concerned.

_'Exactly to plan Jeannie, don't tell me you were worried.'_ He teased and FELT her eye roll in his head. After he'd lost that game, he took a moment to sidle up to the bar to buy Jean a drink, his Southern accent deepening as he greeted her. She flirted back, and he felt her confusion in his head_, 'calm down, Red, if they think I'm some dumb kid I'll look like a better mark. I DO have a plan.'_ Out loud he told her that she had beautiful eyes and smiled at her as the short guy approached to challenge him to a game of pool, "Come be my good luck charm, Gorgeous?" he offered his arm and she took it.

Lance actually had to play the game with effort, Jean was distracting, teasing him with smiles and looks that any other guy would interpret as he was getting lucky tonight. She'd also whispered strategic comments into his head about his opponent and, when she'd left to use the restroom, she'd leaned into his shoulder and whispered in his ear- it was like she was TRYING to distract him. She was making her way back and stopped at the bar to get them both drinks, leaning back against a barstool to keep an eye on his game. She caught his eye between shots and sent him a flirtatious wink and he offered her a grin in return, only to be shoved by the blonde guy whose head Jean had been in earlier making his way to the bar and insinuating himself into Jean's personal space.

Lance watched her actively lean away from the guy, who'd already laid a hand on her knee and was clearly propositioning her, much to her discomfort. He finished up the game with frequent glances at the bar, where Jean had twice been forced to push the guy out of her personal space (though, since it was Jean, this was done as politely as possible, and was therefore mostly ineffective.) After his game, Lance made his way over to the bar, where Jean had turned her back on the guy, and was actively ignoring him.

"Hey, Gorgeous," he grinned, easygoing, slipping into the space between her legs and draping and arm over her shoulders possessively, before he turned to the other guy, "c'n I help you with somethin'?"

Blonde guy shook his head, "Jus' offerin to buy a pretty lady a drink."

Jean snorted and rolled her eyes, which told Lance that this guy must have really offended her.

Blonde guy ignored this and leered at her, "offered to show her what a good time with a real man is, too." He added, sneering at Lance before he reached out to slide a hand up Jean's leg.

Lance reached out and grabbed the guy's wrist before he knew what he was doing, sliding himself into the space between him and Jean, "I think the lady made it clear she's not interested." he told him firmly.

Blonde guy rolled his eyes, "Girlie don' know what she's talkin' 'bout." he informed Lance, before reaching past him for Jean again.

Lance shoved him this time, "I said: Hands. Off." He snarled.

Jean's voice rang in his head, '_Lance, don't.' _she pleaded.

'_Get ready to run, Jeannie.'_ He responded.

Blonde Guy threw the first punch, which Lance caught and was shoved into a nearby table, to the fury of its occupants, and the whole thing eventually escalated into a bar brawl.

Both used the distraction to escape out different doors and meet at the truck, where Jean eagerly hugged Lance, "That was amazing for something so out of control!"

He grinned, snaking an arm around her waist, "Jeannie, sometimes it's actually okay to be out of control for a moment. Exhilarating, even."

Their eyes caught for a moment before she moved up and he leaned in to catch in a powerful kiss that pressed her to the side of the truck in its enthusiasm. Lance curled an arm around her waist before pulling away, "We are GOING to continue this, soon, but this is not the time or place." He rumbled into her neck, trying to tamp down on his libido briefly before he reached around her to open the truck's door for her.

She offered him a mischievous grin in return and stole another quick kiss before climbing in.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: So this got… Dark. Huh. And not updated for a while. My bad. But yeah, this chapter is a little darker than I like writing, but I kind of needed to tear them down a good bit before we can do some Phoenix-style rising-from-the-ashes. My apologies if that's not what you're expecting. I've italicized the rather gross squicky torture part where it's more descriptive, so you can skip it of you want.**

~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~

Lance woke up confused, he didn't remember falling asleep...

And then of course there was the fact that he was lying on his back in some sort of cell. As he pushed himself into a sitting position he took in more of the room: he was sitting on the bottom bunk of a bed that probably mirrored the one across from it, there was a heavy looking door to his right and the most boring wall ever to his left.

The door opened to reveal a tall blonde woman in a black leather bodysuit that showed a rather impressive amount of cleavage.

"Avalanche. Welcome. I'm Regan Wyngarde" she smiled at him, "I apologize for the abruptness of your coming here, but it WAS necessary. The MRD was closing in and we couldn't risk your capture."

Lance raised an eyebrow, "this isn't a capture?" he enquired mildly.

She smiled, a bit too brightly and unsteadily to be of any comfort to him, "not at all my friend, not at all, you're being... Recruited, of a fashion."

"Recruited for what?" he asked.

"In the wake of the recent Mutant massacre," she explained, "my... Employer has need of people with a certain skill set, as it were, your skill set to be exact."

Lance was bewildered, "MY skill set? Lady, I'm a high school dropout. What possible skills could I have that you'd need?"

"We've done our research, Mr. Alvers, and it's you we need. You did excellent work for both Mr.

Lensherr and Ms. Darkholme, that's what brought you to our attention."

"So you need an enforcer. Sorry. Not happening." he made for the door before he paused, looking back, "I'm not a prisoner?"

She shook her head with a slow, predatory smile, "No. However, I implore you to reconsider, after all, if you leave, who'll look after Miss Grey?"

Lance froze, "You have Jean?" he confirmed.

She nooded, smirking, "Would you like to see her?"

He jumped at the chance and was led down a maze of hallways and up a short flight of stairs to an observation room, where Jean's red hair spread in a sort of firey halo across the gurney she appeared to be sleeping on. A blonde woman dressed all in white stood over the head of the bed, the fingertips of one hand touching her forehead.

"If I want to just take her and go?" he asked, already knowing the answer deep in his gut.

Regan frowned at him, "I'm afraid we can't let Miss Grey leave us. She's far too valuable to our employer."

"And if I want to leave without her?"

Regan smiled, leaning forward to press an intercom button, "Emma, darling," she spoke to the other blonde, "he's not cooperating."

She hadn't even finished speaking when Jean's brilliant green eyes flashed open and she started screaming, one long, uninterrupted, wordless scream as her body writhed on the table, spasming from the psychic attack.

"Stop!" Lance yelled, "Stop! Stop! I'll cooperate! I'll do whatever you want! Just stop hurting her! Please!"

Regan smiled, "I'd hoped you'd see reason."

"What are you doing to her?" he asked, brushing his fingers over the glass.

"Reeducating her." the blonde supplied, "she needs to be adjusted to suit our purposes. If you'll follow me."

He glanced over his shoulder frequently as he was led away, but Jean didn't scream again.

Regan led him down more hallways and up several more flights of stairs, to the end of a nicer hallway than the ones downstairs and a pair of mahogany double doors, which she knocked on and poked her head in, speaking softly with whoever was inside, before holding the door open and grinning crazily,

"The Doctor will see you now."

Nathanial Essex didn't LOOK like a scary man, he was on the shorter side, entirely too pale, and the jewel in his forehead was just weird; but over the last three months Lance had learned that the exact opposite could be true: the man known as Mr. Sinister was a terrifying man indeed.

Lance didn't have a clue why he was sent on his first few missions with the Marauders; only that he was sent to incapacitate and retrieve several different mutants: a young man who could manipulate electricity named Bradley; a blonde girl who could change her skin to different materials; a pretty, petite Asian girl who could possess people. At first he was under the impression that they were more people for Essex to recruit for his future plans (which, as far as Lance could figure, were the usual "mutant superiority/take over the world variety"), but he began to suspect other ends when he never saw any of them again. So when he'd been sent to fetch a younger girl, maybe thirteen, with fluttery bug-like wings, named Pixie, he followed Regan and Emma after he turned her over to them.

They placed the girl on a gurney, strapped her wrists and ankles down and wheeled her further downstairs, to a surgical theatre much like the one he'd seen Jean in, where Essex was waiting.

_The man waited for the two women to leave before he unclasped Pixie's wrists, turned her face down and restrapped her. He cut her shirt down the back using medical scissors and examined the juncture of her wings to her back intently, feeling around first with his fingers before picking up a scalpel and cutting in just to one side of her wings. Pixie first made a soft, pained noise, which quickly escalated to a shriek of pain when she realized what was going on. Lance found himself unable to look away, watching blood well from the cut with a sick sort of fascination._

_He eventually made his way back to his assigned room, but only after Sinister had carefully, methodically, cut away the skin around the wings and revealed their fusion to Pixie's spine. He had forced himself to watch (it was his fault she was there at all and he WOULD watch every second of it) as Sinister produced a pair of heavy-duty wire cutters and he fought back the urge to bring down the entire complex (Jean, think of Jeannie) as Sinister severed the spinal cord above and below the wings, removing them entirely. Pixie's screams, which had persisted during the entire, horrific surgery, cut off abruptly, as she choked wetly for a moment before the room was silent but for the slow, steady drip of her blood onto the tile floor._

_Lance had sprinted back to his room before standing, panting with his back pressed to the door for several moments. His breathing slowed to a more normal rhythm momentarily, until his brain replayed for him the wet, slurping noises of flesh being cut from bone and he had to sprit for his bathroom to vomit. _

Now he was sitting on his bathroom floor, back pressed to the wall, sobbing and choking, and trying not to puke again.

Finally he took a deep breath, stuffed down his emotions and stood, washing his mouth and face, he looked at himself in the mirror, at dead brown eyes that would never un-see this tragic day, and forced himself to think of Jean, "I swear to you Jeannie, I promise I will get us out of here if it's the last thing I do."


End file.
